


Lima-Oscar-Victor-Echo

by CloudCover (RainyForecast)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Pilots, aviation AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 17:12:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15393519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainyForecast/pseuds/CloudCover
Summary: Zhenya works with a lot of other pilots. He prides himself on his ability to get along with anyone in the confines of a cockpit just fine.But there’s just something about Sid. Besides how good he makes the uniform look.





	Lima-Oscar-Victor-Echo

 

Zhenya works with a lot of other pilots. He prides himself on his ability to get along with anyone in the confines of a cockpit just fine. He’s a convivial guy, and he’s a professional.

But there’s something special about working with Sid. Whenever he spots those unmistakable shoulders in the crew lounge, he can’t stop himself from grinning ear to ear. There’s just something about him. Besides how good he makes the uniform look.

He’s an incredible pilot, for one. Dedicated and exacting in a way Zhenya knows drives other people nuts, but that Zhenya respects. Serving as Sid’s First Officer is an experience. Sid treats the mundane routine of a flight from New York to Pittsburgh with the intensity and precision of a military exercise.

And then there’s the other side to his personality. Warm, and dorky, and oddly shy. It’s charming beyond belief. Sid, once coaxed into casual conversation (and Zhenya is good at coaxing) can make a long haul flight feel short. He talks lovingly of his friends and family, he rants about hockey, and what he doesn’t know about his own profession isn’t worth knowing.

And, well. He’s beautiful. There’s that. Every once in a while, Zhenya will get absolutely lost in watching Sid’s gorgeous mouth and pretty eyes as he expounds upon WWII aircraft design or the current weather conditions and needs to rip his attention back to the controls and his, you know,  _job_.

All that, and he’s kind. As much as he talks, he listens intently, with a patience not many people have for Zhenya’s occasionally stumbling English. He always asks about Zhenya’s family, he remembers personal details and he’s just….he’s just…

Zhenya is fucked, basically, is what.

 

**EWR-MIA (Newark to Miami)**

 

Sid has just given his perfectly professional greeting to the passengers when Zhenya snags the comm from him.

“And this your first officer,” he says cheerily. “Congrats for you, you have best pilot in fleet today. Today’s his birthday, so please embarrass and say happy birthday when you leave plane in Miami to enjoy beautiful sunshine!”

“Geno, oh my god, hang up—”

Zhenya replaces the comm with a cackle, and grins sunnily at Sid. He let go of the switch right after Sid interrupted and the passengers definitely heard that. “What?  _Is_  your birthday.”

Sid sighs deeply, but the corner of his mouth is twitching, he’s not fooling anyone.

There’s a crackle on the radio as Ground sends them their taxiing and runway information. Sid immediately focuses in on his tasks.

“Juliet, Zulu, Sierra, and short of Yankee on the way back. United 8771,” Sid replies to Ground, and Zhenya really shouldn’t be this into Sid echoing back Ground telling them which taxiways to take to the runway.

***

When the passengers disembark in Miami so many of them lean in to congratulate Sid on his birthday that Sid gets brick red. It’s all awkward head bobs and Canadian thank yous, until it’s kids telling him and then he smiles and his eyes go all soft.

“Happy birfday!” says a little boy who can’t be more than five or six. He’s one of the last passengers to leave.

“Thanks, bud,” Sid says, in a gentle tone that makes Zhenya’s heart feel too big for his chest. “Have a good vacation, eh?”

“Imma see dolphins!” the child shouts gleefully before his parents walk him out of the plane.

Sid leans back into his seat and smiles out the cockpit window at nothing in particular.

“Thanks, G,” he says warmly. “Wasn’t too thrilled about being away from family on my birthday but that was pretty neat.”

“No problem,” Zhenya blusters, and ducks his head so Sid can’t see his rising blush.

 

**IAD-LAS (Washington D.C. to Las Vegas)**

 

“So,” Zhenya says with a grin. “Excited for two days off in Vegas?” Fuck yeah, he thinks. It’s February, and still cold as shit on the East Coast. He’s ready to lay out in the sun, poolside.

“For sure,” Sid says. “My best friend’s an air traffic controller and he had to transfer out there. I’m really looking forward to seeing him and his family.”

Zhenya is hopelessly charmed. Las Vegas, city of sin, and Sidney is enthusing about quality family time. “Sound great, Sid,” he says, inflection probably too fond.

Their conversation is halted by the need to do a few systems checks, but when they’re done Sid turns back to Zhenya.

“Uh, so. I know you probably have plans? But if you didn’t, you could come with me? Marc-Andre has a guest room, saves the cost of a hotel. And a pool, so. I mean, you’re probably no—”

“Would love,” Zhenya says quickly. Spend time with Sid outside of work? Hell fucking yes. “As long as okay with your friend. Maybe check?”

“Okay!” Sid says, and he seems a little excited, even? “His wife is awesome, and he has two kids—”

Sid spends the next hour telling Zhenya all about “Flower,” his great family, and he and Sid’s years working out of the same airport. Zhenya doesn’t care if they’re a family of trolls. He’s just thrilled that Sid invited Zhenya to spend time with him, on purpose.

***

Flower and his family are not trolls, they are a lovely family of French-Canadian expats who welcome Zhenya with open arms. They seem inordinately amused by the fact that Sid brought a friend with him, though. Zhenya is a little surprised. Apparently it’s not something Sid does, as a rule.

“He must really like you,” Flower says with a shit-eating grin.

If only, Zhenya thinks.

***

The visit is both wonderful and extremely trying to Zhenya’s soul. Sid in swim trunks, Sid laughing and scooping up little Estelle to gently dump her into the pool, where she shrieks delightedly for “Uncle Sid” to do it again. Sid with wet hair and water beading on his skin, collapsing into the lounge chair beside Zhenya for a breather. He sniffles and wipes water from his face.

Zhenya had been ostensibly trying to read a paperback but he’d be hard-pressed to even remember the book’s name at the moment.

“How’s it going?” Sid asks him quietly. “Not too boring for you?”

“Perfect,” Zhenya says, thankful that his dark sunglasses probably hide the way his eyes keep darting from Sid’s arms to his chest to his insane, perfect thighs. Which are stretching the legs of Sid’s trunks in a way that is in danger of giving Zhenya a heart attack. “Relax, read book. Lay around by pool. Everything I’m want to do in Vegas. And your friends are great.”

Sid beams at him. “Awesome,” he says, and leans back onto the lounge chair and closes his eyes. “Wake me up before I get get burnt?”

“Sure,” Zhenya says. “Sweet dreams.”

“Mm-hmm,” Sid mumbles, and Zhenya can’t help but feel his heart twist at the thought of Sid falling asleep next to him all the time.

 

**EWR-PDX (Newark to Portland)**

 

Zhenya loves flights like this, where they’re chasing the sunset. The clouds outside the cockpit windows are lit up in indescribably glowing hues of pink and orange. He makes the mistake of looking over at Sid, and the sight of him limned in gold light is enough to take Zhenya’s breath away, cliche as that sounds. Sid is smiling wide, delight bright in his eyes as he takes in the view.

“Makes it all worth it, eh?” Sid says. “The crazy schedule and the hours. The boring long-hauls. Everything.”

Zhenya looks out over the clouds. Sid’s right. It’s a grueling job, but they do it because flying is in their blood, written into their DNA. Because they love it.

“No other job for me,” he tells Sid in agreement, and Sid turns to smile at him. Zhenya stares at the way the way the sun lights up his eyes and skims over his lips, and almost does something stupid. Like lean forward over the instrument panel and kiss him.

Sid blinks, frowns a little. “What’s up, G? Is there…something on my face?”

“Just sun,” Zhenya says, quickly busying himself with his readouts.

“…okay?” Sid say, clearly ready to inquire further. Luckily, he’s interrupted by the need to check in with the Minneapolis ARTCC, and Zhenya’s off the hook, for now

 

**ORD-YQB (Chicago to Quebec)**

 

It’s been a while since they’ve been on the same flight. They’ve been texting some, but nothing beats flying together, the smooth efficiency of how they work with each other.

“Been a while, Sid,” Zhenya says once they’re at cruising altitude.

“I know,” Sid laments. “I got stuck with Dubinsky on a flight from Newark to LA. It was so bad, G. So bad.”

Zhenya laughs. “I’m  _best_  first officer,” he says, preening exaggeratedly.

He expects well-deserved teasing for that. What he doesn’t expect is the almost shy smile Sid gives him instead.

“Yeah,” Sid says softly, and Zhenya blinks. “You’re the best, G.”

Their conversation is subdued that flight, but not in a bad way. In a way that makes it feel like something is going to happen.

 

**EWR-YHZ (Newark to Halifax)**

 

“Boston, United 7187 leveling 1-3 thousand feet,” Sid tells the Boston ARTCC as they near it on their flight to Halifax. The radio crackles with the tower’s reply.

“United 7187, Boston Center, climb and maintain 1-7 thousand.”

“1-7 thousand, United 7187,” Sid acknowledges, and switches the radio off. He turns back to Zhenya to resume the conversation they’d begun.

“I live in Dartmouth,” Sid tells Zhenya. “Between Halifax and Cole Harbor, where I was born.”

“Parents still there?” Zhenya asks.

“Yeah, I’m excited to spend some time with them—my sister too.” Sid pauses for a moment. “We have really good seafood. Nova Scotia, I mean. You ever see much of Halifax?”

“Just hotel by airport,” Zhenya admits.

“The waterfront is pretty,” Sid continues. There’s another pause.

“Maybe…I should see sometime?” Zhenya says, not sure where this conversation is going.

Sid kind of lights up. “Oh man, you should! I mean, it’s not New York, or Moscow, or any big city really, but, it’s nice? You really should.”

Zhenya looks over at him, notes the almost nervous way Sid’s chewing on his lip. Zhenya blinks, then takes his gaze back to the cloudscape beyond the cockpit windows.

“You take couple days leave, yes? Maybe…I take some too? See more than airport?”

Sid straightens in his seat. “Yeah, G, that would be awesome. You can stay with me? I mean, if you want? I have a guest room. It’s not much and like I said it’s a quiet town and—”

“Sid,” Zhenya interrupts, hope and excitement starting to unfold beneath his ribcage. “Excited to see place where you from, would love to stay with you. Would visit even if you live in New Jersey.”

Their airline has its hub in Newark and they spend enough time there as it is. Sid glances over at him, then back to the flight log. His cheeks look flushed and the corner of his mouth is twitching like he’s trying not to smile. It makes Zhenya’s chest feel warm and tender.

“Yeah?” Sid asks, somewhat unnecessarily.

“Yeah,” Zhenya replies. “Anywhere.” His heart must be in his tone because Sid’s nascent smile blooms. It’s enough to make Zhenya brave. He reaches over the console to take Sid’s hand, and presses a kiss to his knuckles. Sid inhales sharply.

They stare at each other for a long moment. “Want to do that for so long,” Zhenya finally admits.

“Just that?” Sid says, looking a little shell shocked. Just from a kiss to his hand.

Zhenya snorts. “No. But—anything. Anything you want.”

“Go on a date with me?” Sid says softly.

“Yes,” Zhenya replies quickly. “So many date. Date you so hard.”

Sid laughs, the awkward almost-giggle that is, by now, pretty much Zhenya’s favorite sound in the world. “I’ll hold you to that. Now we had better re-focus on flying a tin can all the way to my hometown, eh?” He catches the stealthy movement of Zhenya’s hand and yelps. “And  _do not_ make a fucking announcement to the passengers, Geno, I swear to g—”

 

“Good afternoon, this is your first officer. Perfect weather and ideal conditions for our flight to Halifax. Also, I’m finally go out on date with your captain when we get there, so is  _best day ever_ —”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me as [knifeshoeoreofight](http://knifeshoeoreofight.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr, and as @RainyForecast on Twitter. Come say hi!


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